


The River Runs On

by ChelseaAmanda, SargentStadanko



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaAmanda/pseuds/ChelseaAmanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SargentStadanko/pseuds/SargentStadanko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has been fighting for far too long - fighting for his chance to love, fighting for any glimmer of happiness he could find. He had found it, once upon a time. A soldier, a man out of his time, had shown him that even a monster such as himself deserved a second chance, and deserved to be loved. Not all things last though - Loki had been given hope by Steve Rogers, until another man came and took it, breaking Loki in the process. Now the God with no family, no friends, hated by the world, was alone. Alone and in so much pain that he saw no exit other than to end his own life. But Gods never truly die. The second Loki's life ended, another one began. A small boy came into being in a field of snow, a boy with no memory, only one face burned into his mind. A boy with eyes as green as forests, holding wisdom thousands of years beyond his time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The River Runs On

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a roleplay, all of Loki's parts are written by myself, and the Steve parts were written by Alex, my Stebe. I lost sleep over killing Loki. I really did. But, I'm excited to write about kid!Loki finding Steve and Tony and being raised by them.  
> Little bit of back story, Steve was having problems so he was going out of town for a few weeks over Christmas, and there was a huge plotline involving The Mandarin and The Controller, but I won't go into that. Basically, Loki did some things he's not proud of, things that almost ended up killing Tony Stark.  
> The poem is As I Walked Out One Evening, by W.H. Auden, and it is by far my favourite poem of all time.  
> Oh, and Steve's car's name is Bucky.

So, Steve was leaving, just like that. He was leaving, and he would be coming back to Tony, Loki knew that from the beginning, knew there was little hope, he was just tired. So, tired. Tired of living every day with a dark void within him that couldn’t be filled without Steve, tired of fighting the monster inside him, tired of watching as Stark lived the life he wished he had. It had been 1000 years – 1000 years of pain and living in shadows, and he was finally done. Loki stood up, getting off his bed to stare out his window. It was dark, the moon offering little light through the clouds that spat rain. The God sighed before turning to his dresser and pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. Time to write… To write his goodbye.

How do you even start things like this though? How do you put all of your unsaid feelings and thoughts onto a simple white piece of paper and hope to convey them properly. It was intimidating, that blank piece of paper staring up at him. He placed the pen down and finally began to write, he wrote everything that came to his mind, not thinking or caring about how it flowed – or if any of it even made sense.

“Dear Steve,

I’m sorry that I must do this; that I must run further than you ever have. But, even though you may think I am strong, I am so far from… There is so much I have yet to tell you, stories that I want to share, a future I want with you. I know now though, that none of it will happen. This is the end for me. I’m tired, Steve. I am so damn tired. I’m tired of hurting, of being scared, of having to share my head with something that wants you dead… I’m tired of living with the fact that I was never going to be enough for you.

Sometimes, when you were asleep on my lap as I read, I would put my book down and just watch you. I would watch you and think of the many things I wanted to do with you. I thought of how I would propose to you one day soon, about the place I would take you to do it. I settled on the beach, I told myself I would take you to the beach one day when the air was cold, and it had become the season that I was born into. I would take your name, because I do not have a true last name. I am the Son of None – Not a Laufeyson, or an Odinson. I had snuck away to Asgard to ask my mother for her engagement ring – it was always decided that I would get the engagement ring, and Thor would get her wedding band. I will leave it here with you to do as you please, because even though you are engaged to Tony, the ring will always belong to you. She may pay you a visit when I am gone, she will probably cry with you, I need you to comfort her. She may ask you why you did this to me, because I know my family, and I know they will blame you. Tell her it wasn’t your fault, tell her it was nobody’s fault but my own. 

I thought of other things, as well. I do not know if you are aware, but I have children – 4 to be exact. Fenrir, Jormungandr, Hela, and Sleipnir. Odin took them from me; cast them out, for there had been a prophecy about them that lead to his death. I have not seen any of them since the days they were taken and cursed. I never wanted that for them, I wanted them to be happy, but it was forbidden, so I was forced to give them up before I had bonded with them. That was a very long time ago, I have nearly forgotten them… They were never meant to be born; they were – as harsh as it sounds, mistakes. I was young and foolish and I am sorry to each and every one of them that they were cursed with me for a father. But sometimes, I would think of having children with you… Adopting a few of Midgard, and raising them – being the family I never had. The thought warmed me, and gave me hope, made me dream. You would have made an excellent father, and I’m sure that someday, you still will.

There are a lot of things I have left unsaid… I need you to know that you became such a large part of me, that I literally cannot live without you by my side. I cannot bear to live without your love, and I am sorry for my weakness. You gave me something though, you let me hope, you allowed me to see that even a monster like myself could be capable of love and happiness. But, I can’t feel that without you, I just, can’t. But, I need you to be happy. That’s why I have to do this. I can feel myself holding you back from your own happiness, and I need you to be happy. I love you, and I feel like I must sacrifice my everything for you to live on. 

I think it will be better when I am gone. There was always the danger of the Frost Giants looking for me, and if they found me, they would surely hurt you and Stark… I’m sorry I never warned you about that danger.

I’m sorry for all the damage I have caused to you, and your world. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I will give you knowledge though… Gods never truly die. I will be gone, but my soul will live on. I’m sure that someday I will find you again, maybe in a way you do not expect… But I will look for you. I love you, Steve Rogers. I love you more than I could ever love any other being in all the realms. I need you to know that. I love you, so very much, with every part of myself. 

So, please, forgive me.

But I cannot go on, this pain has been a part of me for too long, and I have had to endure it for far longer than you can imagine.

I love you.

Loki, the Son of None.”

Loki held the note in his hand, reading it over. It would do, there was so much left out, but nothing he could think of in words. He opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a box, opening it slowly. Inside was the gun that he was given to shoot the fake Stark and Basil. He placed it on his bed, as well as the letter, and rummaged through the drawer, looking for another box. Finding what he was looking for he opened the small velvet box, inside sat a beautiful silver ring. It was nature and elegance combined into a ring of pure beauty, branches were carved into it, as well as leaves, at the top sat a swirling white stone. It shone bright, a true Asgardian treasure, and looked as if there were stars held within that tiny rock. Loki closed the case and pressed it to his lips, silent apologies being left on the surface. Apologies to his mother, to Steve, to every person he had ever hurt. 

Grabbing the letter and ring he made his way to Steve’s room, it had been a long time since he had gone down these halls to that room. He felt the emptiness within himself mirror the emptiness of the halls. For once in his life, his tears were not betraying him… He was scared beyond belief, but he was not crying, which was odd for him… He was scared because the last time he had tried to end his life, he woke up. He woke up and he was subjected to endless pain. This time, he didn’t want to wake up, he just wanted it to end.

He reached Steve’s door and let himself into the room, knowing Steve had left it unlocked for if Loki needed any of his books. The room brought back so many memories; memories that warmed the God, made him feel the ghosts of happiness within himself. The air smelled of Steve – the old Steve – not how he smelled now, mixed with Stark’s scent. He breathed in that scent deeply, he would miss it… Walking slowly towards the bed he looked around, memorizing every detail of that small space, noticing the little things Steve had done to make it his own. Unfinished sketches on the table and walls, a canvas with the back facing outwards leaning under the window, World War II books stacked on the shelves, a small strip of photos from a booth sitting on his bedside table. 

Loki sat on the bed, placing the note and ring carefully down beside him and picked up that photo strip, examining it carefully. He smiled at the memory; them shoving themselves in and praying the technology would work. The first flash caught their look of confusion and concentration. The second was them smiling at each other, proud that they had figured it out, the next was one where Steve had stolen a kiss, the God’s face sporting a look of surprise. The last was his favourite – himself smiling warmly at Steve, and it being returned, their eyes locked with a look of pure bliss and love clearly written across their faces. The smile on Loki’s face grew as he felt his eyes well up a little. He placed the strip with the note and ring before standing up. One last look at the room, then he was gone, heading back to his room.

Now there was only one thing left to do… It was time. First he would text Steve, and tell him to go to the mansion before leaving on his trip. To go to the mansion and look in his room, tell him that he would find something there for him, and Loki would not be there, not really. He wrote out the text and sent it before smashing the phone to pieces on the wall of the hall outside his room. Damn – He forgot to write an apology for the mess… It was not going to be a fun task to clean up after him…

Finally, he opened the door to his room and walked to the bed where he had left the gun. He sat down, and leaned against the wall, gun in his hand. This was it – these were his last moments as this Loki. He brought the gun to his head, taking off the safety. Cold metal pressed against the side of his skull.

“I love you.”

There was a loud bang that echoed through the halls of the empty mansion. A loud bang, and Loki was finally given his relief. There was no more pain, no more anything. Just an empty shell and red walls. Loki was gone, only a memory and a note left.

Not all too far away, a small boy, no older than eight woke up in the middle of a snow covered field. He had ink black hair and stunningly green eyes, but not a memory in him to save his life. The boy thought and thought, but all he knew was that his name was Loki, and there was a man, with eyes blue as the sky, that he must find. He was naked and cold, and there was nothing but snow, he screamed out for help until his throat was dry, and finally, an elderly woman found him. Things went by in a haze for the poor boy, but he was taken to a hospital, where he stayed. He was small, confused, lost, with not a clue about how he was supposed to find the man whose image was burned in his skull…

Then he saw it, on a television in the nurse’s station, the very man he knew he had to find was right there. His name was Steve, Steve Rogers – Captain America. For the first time in the boy’s memory, he felt happy simply looking up at that screen.

“Gone?”

Loki’s text message made no sense, where would he have gone? Back to Asgard like Steve had suggested? Back to the streets, to take refuge beneath the broken glass and shattered windows? Steve wasn’t about to turn around and head back, he was nearly at Clint’s old apartment, and no one but the Agent had an idea where he was going.  
But something... There was something in the pit of his stomach that made him turn his car around.  
Loki wouldn’t have asked him to come before he left if it wasn’t important.

“Gone?” He asked out loud again to himself, JARVIS’ dashboard illuminating his face in his rearview mirror as he sped down the road, the moon high in the sky, watching over him with its sad, longing face. Steve hated the eerie look to the cars past his windshield, the way the rain spattered and stained their appearance, as if the world was so broken that it was falling apart.

“Loki, what’d you mean?” He whispered out loud, gripping his steering wheel as if Bucky could save him.

It took him half an hour to drive back to the mansion.

It took him thirty seconds to walk to his room and fling open the door, confusion spreading across his face as he took in the box and the note and-

“No.”

He wasn’t going to believe it. Whatever this was, it was not what he’d done to Stark. It was probably Loki saying goodbye, to wherever he’d gone, leaving behind some trinket to remember him by.

“No.”

He wasn’t going to believe it, not even when his fingers were around the box, opening it, jaw clenching when he took in the tempered ore and the beauty of it all. His eyes strayed to the photo strip, and for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to touch it.

“Loki.”  
His voice caught as his fingertips brushed over the paper, eyes closing defeatedly as he let out a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was about to read. He grabbed it from the blanket and dropped to the floor, leaning his back against his bed, the box still clutched in his hand.  
There was Loki’s writing, clear as day.  
Saying, goodbye.

“Loki, Loki-“  
He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t move, and as he trembled he thought of all the times Loki had held him, let him cry, been strong when he couldn’t be. He thought of all the times Loki had wiped his cheeks, and though they were not many,  
they were the most powerful of his memories.

His hung his head as he cried, because Loki’s note said it all.  
And Steve had lost his love, to God’s name written on a bullet.

Loki Rogers. Steve couldn’t contain himself, he got to his feet, hands angrily wiping at his eyes as he threw the box and the paper on his bed, throwing his door open as he stormed down the hall, made a left into Loki’s room-  
if there was anything that could break a Soldier- paralyze him until thoughts were nothing but distant sounds-  
it was the blood on the wall and the gray in his lover’s eyes.

“Loki-“  
He was clambering over the bed, bringing Loki into his arms, pressing kisses to his forehead, his cheeks-  
“Loki, you can’t leave me, I need you, please-“  
He was crying, burying his head in the cold shell of a man he’d once known to hold so much life. His shoulders shuddered as his chest seared with a fresh wave of pain. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

“You remember how you used to read to me at night, Loki?”  
He had his hand on the God’s face, caressing the lifeless skin, vision blurred past the point of coherence.  
“You used to let me lay across your lap, you’d read to me until I fell asleep- until I dreamed-“  
He was trying to smile, nearly laughing because this couldn’t be real- this couldn’t be real-

“You remember, don’t you? I'll love you, dear, I'll love you  
Till China and Africa meet,  
And the river jumps over the mountain  
And the salmon sing in the street.”

He was cradling Loki to his chest, eyes clenched against the pain-

“'I'll love you till the ocean  
Is folded and hung up to dry  
And the seven stars go squawking  
Like geese about the sky.”

He couldn’t breathe, but he wouldn’t stop reciting. His fingers of his free hand were running through Loki’s hair, he could smell him past the blood, past the death-

“'The years shall run like rabbits,  
For in my arms I hold  
The Flower of the Ages,  
And the first love of the world.'”

/In my arms./  
He held his love in his arms and it was too late to do a damn thing about it. He was too late- it was too late to save the life he would have done anything to save-

He remembered every word of that poem. Every detail, he could hear Loki saying it to him- the emotion in his tone, the voice that had stirred behind him as he had watched the sun rise, spending a quiet morning with the God he’d loved with his very soul-

“But all the clocks in the city  
Began to whirr and chime:  
'O let not Time deceive you,  
You cannot conquer Time.

'O look, look in the mirror,  
O look in your distress:  
Life remains a blessing  
Although you cannot bless.”

He had to stop, his voice was breaking, his throat was closing up on him and he had to cough, shutting his eyes against the pressure as he curled in on himself, Loki still held in his arms because he had left him without a proper goodbye, and now all he had was the words on his tongue and the love in his heart that he knew would never, ever die.

“'O stand, stand at the window  
As the tears scald and start;  
You shall love your crooked neighbour  
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,  
The lovers they were gone;”

Steve looked up at the ceiling, blinking through the liquid anguish. This was his fault, Loki said it wasn’t his fault, but he already knew it was. If he’d been smarter, quicker, better...  
Then the lips he pressed to the God’s skin would have been returned, and never again would he be so alone.

“The clocks had ceased their chiming.”

This was it. This was his Loki, cold in his arms. He was reading him to sleep, letting him fall gently into dreams in his arms, because Steve didn’t want him to go alone. He wished he’d been there, to comfort him, to make him change his mind. To remind him that he wasn’t alone in this world- Steve loved him- Steve would always love him. There was nothing Steve could do about it. This was the man who’d smiled every minute he’d been with his soldier- the man who’d taught Steve freedom. Steve knew how hard he’d fought his monster- he knew that when they had been together, when Loki had been happy, it had been a winning battle.

But Steve had let him down. He’d lost the war.

“And, the deep river, ran on.”


End file.
